A Mage's Wake: Opposing Opinions
It is the Ninth hour by the Shadow on Idleforge, the 27th day of Seedwarming in the year 627. It is a temperate night. The air is stagnant, not stirring with the slightest breeze. The skies are perfectly clear. 'Night's Edge Monastary: Courtyard ' ---- ::Entering beneath the large sun-clay archway brings one into the courtyard of the former monastery. Never truly quiet, this space is wide and open to the sky, the central area through which the rest of the working manor is accessed. During the day, conversation and the passing of craftsmen and students keeps the area from being quiet, while night brings some peace - though often disturbed by the furtive form of someone thieving a midnight snack from the nearby dining hall or passing through on their way to a belated bed. ::The open air garden is cut into two halves by pathways of coloured stone. To the east, the white pathway is of all white sun clay, fired and glazed, winding through mixed flowerbeds of Mikin orchids and the trellises of the creeping night's trumpet. The west path is of a dark, almost black rock with rougher edges, chipped and hand-fitted into a mosaic pattern of basalt that mirrors the winding way of its sister. The two paths come together beneath an elegant three tier fountain made of white marble, shot through with black veins and polished by the constant flow and splash of water. ::A set of double doors, made of heavy biinwood stained to a darkened hue of near black, lead off to the north, their inlaid and gold-leaved inset of the Sunburst of the Light shining brightly even in the dimmest day. A small postern door, tucked at the end of an unassuming branch of pathway on the western side of the courtyard, leads north into the dining hall, while a small gate opens in the low salle wall to allow access to the weaponmaster's training area. ---- "I do not doubt their sincerity, Brother. If they had wished, we would have been dead." Celeste lowers her hand back to the water's surface, her gaze remaining to the two men. "We do have similar goals. Perhaps, one day we may even stand together." She shrugs her shoulders, her smile broadening at the sight of the Zahir. "Lady Zahir, my cousin has left a gift for you. Sadly, you had departed by the time I awoke." "You've never had problems finding followers," notes Duhnen at that quietly, a friendly squeeze and pump given to Uriel's hand, before releasing it. Turning about, he looks to Celeste, and then Tamae, as the Zahir announces herself. Uriel smirks, shaking his head. "I have a few more strikes against me than in the past," he says ruefully. He looks towards Celeste. "I don't know, the druid seems to think I'm corrupted death incarnate. Not sure I can work under those conditions." His eyes than eventually fall on the Zahir for a long second, then he shakes his head, watching her wordlessly. Tamae Zahir arches her eyebrows at Celeste's words, a faint blush colouring her cheeks, "Really? He did?" She seems pleasantly surprised. After a few moments, though, she glances over at Uriel, quirking an eyebrow and looking at him in return. Syton enters quietly from the approach, walking beneath the sunclay archway with hushed steps. He holds his quarterstaff in both hands, resting it horizontally across his shoulders, behind his neck. The young freelander glances around the courtyard, raises an eyebrow thoughtfully, then lowers his quarterstaff to his side and quietly makes his way towards the group. "My Ladies, my Lord, Master," he greets each quietly, bowing to the nobles and nodding to Uriel. Celeste seems to take a moment to consider who to answer first, nodding towards the Zahir. "Yes, Lord Alin left you a bow in my salle. I believe it was his father's and he felt that you could put it to far better use then himself." With a wave of her hand in the direction of the salle, she turns back to Duhnen and Uriel. "Truth is a powerful skill, Brother. Something so meaningless as a name could be the largest of barriers. Too many secrets have continued to taint Fastheld, hiding and inciting more fear. Do you not believe it is time to come out and realize that you do not have to hide away anymore?" "If I remember, we've all gained more than a few strikes, Hilde," shrugs Duhnen slightly at that, his voice low for just Uriel to hear. "Though..you certainly had a very unique way of doing it. If the reports were correct." He considers something for a moment, before his eyes seem to look through the white-cloaked man for a few moments. The Seamel squints, then, lifting a hand to rub at his eyes lightly. "..I don't know what to make of this change. But..another time we'll speak on that, perhaps." Uriel turns his gaze away from Tamae to nod to Syton, then listening to Duhnen and nodding to him as well. He says softly in return, "Yes, another time and place." He looks up to Celeste, grinning broadly, chuckling, and then, unable to help himself, bursts into full-out laughter. "If you...believe...we should not fear," he says amidst the laughter, "Then we have greater issues in c-c-c-communication than I previously imagined. There are dragons out there that will *eat you*," he says, a gilding of anger taking the lilt out of his voice as he begins to calm down. "There are people in masks that will do unspeakable things to you in the name of a dragon. There are still people out there who will take your eyes, tongue and hands. There is a government led by something greater and more sinister than your yellowhorn and nepos idealism. If you do not fear, do not see the need in hiding from that which would eat and defile you, then you desperately are in need of a healer to check your eyes." Blandly, Tamae says, "As the only representative of the House currently in charge of the government, I object to the implications that Zolor would do anything that would harm Fastheld. Asides from that, however, I'm in agreement with you." Syton gets a nod and Tamae smiles to Celeste, "I look forward to practicing with it." Syton nods along with Uriel's statement, silently expression his agreement. Cool blue-gray eyes shift to focus on Celeste and a faint, almost reassuring smile touches his lips. "This sounds like a conversation that we have had before, my Lady," the young Freelander says before falling silent once more. "The drakes have always been there, Brother. Longer than you or I have ever walked this land..in any incarnation," she notes pointedly. "You asked why Master Firelight did not trust you, and welcome your teachings with open arms. It is because you would not afford one modicum of trust in return. Who should take that first step? Yet, A man who lives every breath in fear, is a man who does not live. Neither am I a dreamer who believes that if we all holds hands that some change may come about," Celeste remarks sharply. "But if we do not take a step towards building some understanding to the Light that shines within me and the Shadow within you...then we continue to be babes doing little more than floundering about in blind hope. By your logic, Brother, we should all be hiding in caves and praying to the Light that one does not rob us of what wilted existence we have." She takes a deep breath, looking back to the water's serene surface. "When do we stop running, Brother...and fight? When do *we* stop hiding?" She looks back to Uriel. "I had the the courage to step out of the shadows of my own past. There is no other here, beyond yourself that can understand as well of the Churches sins, than myself. Yet if you wish only to continue hiding, how does that truly help the ones that carry this burden? It is not the Touched we should be fearing, but the Shadow....they are not one and the same." "Ebonhold," clarifies Duhnen to Tamae with a small shrug. "I've only heard little, and mostly rumors at that, but what I have picked up is nothing very encouraging. Still.." His expression takes a thoughtful edge as he glances back to Uriel. "..still. Fear isn't enough of a reason to not strive for better things, I would think, as Lady Mikin has stated," he suggests with an arching eyebrow, his attention slipping to Celeste. "Though the organization of such a thing would be an entirely difficult and delicate matter to create, and maintain for any long period of time." "I never asked why Master Firelight did not trust me or welcome me, do not twist my words," Uriel says lowly to Celeste. "I merely stated that his mistrust creates a severe impedement to our direct interaction. If you wish to paint a target upon yourself, fine. But I don't see fighting. I see a bunch of lovey heads in the clouds, teaching peace. And you understand nothing of the Church's sins. You lived amidst scholars and monks. You continue to claim to know of the zealotry of your breathren, but have you ever even been in Sun's Keep? Have you witnessed a Lessening? Have you visited the Lesser mines? No. You've been housed up in with your books for years, come out into the sunshine, and then tell others to come out of hiding because all is well. I suggest you wait long enough for your eyes to adjust before you make that call," Uriel ends pointedly. Tamae Zahir is simply quiet, watching and listening. She studies Uriel silently, shifting her weight from one foot to the other slightly. "Excuse me for saying so," Syton interjects in a diplomatic tone, looking between Uriel and Celeste, "but I do not believe any minds are going to be changed this evening. Philosophy aside, we all have enemies, and in the end, are responsible for our own safety. Wherever we can find common ground, or common enemies, let us begin from there. For now, it should be enough to understand that we don't understand one another." He shrugs. "Or, if you wish, we can form opinions so grand as to crush the Cult beneath them." Celeste shakes her head. "I'm not twisting your words, Brother. You asked why he thought you death incarnate, and I only provided you an answer. And /yes/, I do carry my Mark from Sun's Keep...and will for the rest of my days. Do not speak as though you know my life, and I do not speak that I know your own plight." She takes /another/ deep breath, listening quietly to Syton. "Master Temple, it is not for me to change anyone's mind, but to help guide them. We can have a hundred reasons to fear the life we are given, or embrace what we have. The amnesty was brought about as a means for freedom to those who have lived in fear...yes a brand, and one that I would wear myself. It allows one to know the dangers of a mage, to be warned....but it brushes away the secrets as well." She looks back to Uriel, "do you not think that this *gift* I have, does not bear its own responsibilities. Brother, we have a common enemy in the Cult...and the shadows you keep for the Luminary will only make those ignorant of the Cult to believe that is such an entity that is causing trouble. /This/ is what I fear for the Marked mages of Fastheld, and why I /do/ stand here wishing to educate. Sun's Keep and The Stanchion keep their own vigil, and I would not wish for them ever to return to the old ways of meting justice." The Seamel's complexion pales slightly at mention of 'Lessening', the man crossing his arms at his chest. Syton is looked to in consideration, his words recieving a small nod of agreement. "First glance would suggest that the Dragon Cult is the largest current threat, as stated. But knowing where to start in dealing with them is something that, currently, I doubt any of us have even an inkling of insight into." "A brand is not freedom. A brand is what a cow wears, to make sure everyone knows who it belongs to. In this case, it's the mark of the Stanchion, your own people. You are claiming ownership, and no one should own another human being, no matter what promises they can make. If you do believe so in your cause, get the mark yourself. You talk of responsibilities, but your ability is only used to destroy the Shadow Touched. Ours is a gift of life, and of creativity. Yours is of destruction and hate, and yet you'd have us get the mark to show our danger to the world. A hammer can be used to build or to harm, but a sword only has one use. I would hope you'd show some responsibility as a rule, but perhaps it needs to be noted as a special boon to the Touched. You have not yet spilt Shadowed blood. Well, I thank you, Sister. But Master Temple is right, no minds will be changed tonight." Uriel wheels around, cloak billowing. "I will leave you to your strategies, as I go to my own." Tamae Zahir shifts to watch Uriel leave, still saying nothing, asides from a soft "Swords can be beaten into plow-shares, however." Syton sighs exasperatedly and flashes a regretful look to Duhnen before turning to Uriel. "Light keep you, Master," he says to the man's back. "I look forward to our next meeting." A dark smile forms on his lips, and he adds, "Don't be a stranger." "/Fire/ does not heal, /hiding/ in shadows...does not save?" Celeste shakes her head, "I've seen the Light mend Master Temple...and make him whole again...and I've seen it destroy children because of hate. You speak as though you know my life, and you know nothing of me, Brother. Believe what you will of my past, without even the courtesy of hearing it from my own lips." She shakes her head, sighing sadly. "Light guide and protect you, Fayed...and those that come to you for wisdom." Duhnen is left silent for the moment, watching Uriel away, before glancing to Syton to shrug slightly. "There's always much to do. And it always seems never enough time to do it in," he states, slightly regretfully. "..seems to be the way of it, doesn't it?" "As long as you hide behind the priesthood and your childish notions of Light, you will remain a Scourge, a class of human that I have seen murder hundreds of other humans in the most gruesome and unholy ways possible," Uriel says levelly over his shoulder, before wandering off past the gate. ---- Return to Season 6 (2007) Category:Logs